


Nobody Breaks My Hart!

by eafay70



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9465680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eafay70/pseuds/eafay70
Summary: Sequel to "Because I Care": David watches Joe get hurt. He starts worrying. James helps David exact revenge.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myblueworld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myblueworld/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Because I Care](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9415739) by [myblueworld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myblueworld/pseuds/myblueworld). 



> I know I still owe you a fic in which they're musicians, but enjoy this in the meantime. And I know this is late, but better late than never. :)
> 
> This fic is based on a Coppa Italia match between Torino and AC Milan. Joe Hart went for the ball on the ground, AC Milan's Gianluca Lapadula tried to jump and get the ball, and Lapadula wound up [kicking](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8U23oQeDj4) Joe Hart.

It was another quiet evening in Manchester. David was sitting on his couch, cuddling [a City monkey plushie](http://www.very.co.uk/manchester-city-plush-monkey/1600089319.prd) while eating dinner. The monkey, whom David called Guante, had been a Christmas present from Joe, and as such was joining David in watching Joe play in the Coppa Italia.

"There's our handsome keeper!" David couldn't help squealing like a teenager with a crush when Joe first graced the screen. "He looks like he's not tired. Harlow must be doing better."

The match went smoothly enough until Gianluca Lapadula, one of the AC Milan players, confused the ball and Joe's head. (In reality, Lapadula probably wasn't being malicious. David was in no mood to think kindly of the man who had caused Joe a head injury.)

"¡¡¡¡¡NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" David felt like the protagonist of a telenovela whose love interest had just been murdered by a rival politician. He picked up his phone and called Joe, fully aware that the keeper was still on the field and therefore unable to answer the phone. And so, for the first (or maybe second) time in the history of their relationship, David left Joe a voicemail.

"Joe, are you okay? Oh my G-d, are you still alive?"

He hung up and saw Joe being tended to on the pitch. Rather than let out another melodramatic scream, he left another voicemail.

"Joe, please let me know that you’re okay."

He hung up and saw Joe standing between the sticks as if nothing had happened. "I'm in love with an idiot," he informed Guante. "A handsome, intelligent, and very faraway idiot." He considered leaving Joe a voicemail telling him that, but decided against it.

"Shit, Joe! You looked like a total mess. Tell me that you’re okay."

As the match progressed - decidedly not in Torino's favor - David felt himself crushing the monkey in his fists. "Ay, Guante, lo siento."

"I am gonna kill him, Joe. I am so going to kill whoever it was that did this to you."

The match finally ended. David forced himself to wait until he saw Joe enter the tunnel before turning off the television and calling again.

"Joe, I am worried like sick here. Tell me that you’re okay."

He could feel his grip on the English language slipping as worry filled his mind.

"Joe, did the medics have checked you yet? What did they say?"

He picked up Guante and walked to his bedroom, where the sight of his wallet - in which he kept his insurance card - led him to a horrible thought.

"Oh my G-d, Joe, did they send you to the hospital?"

Within seconds, he was on his laptop, typing like a madman (which was how he felt).

"I am looking at the flight schedule now. Just tell me which hospital are you in."

His phone started flashing the low battery indicator. David plugged it in.

"Joe, please, please, please, call me. I want, I need to know that you’re okay."

David blinked back tears as he struggled to type with his shaking fingers. After what felt like an eternity, his phone started playing "Blue Moon."

“Joe! ¡D's mío! You’re alive! Are you okay, Joe?”

The Englishman chuckled - as if this were a laughing matter! “Uhm. Yes, I am alive. And yes, I am…okay. Well, I’ve been better but basically, I am okay.”

David let out a sigh of relief. “Gosh, you have no idea how worried I was.”

“Well, I was-”

“And what the heck was on your mind that you decided you'd still playing after that incident???” David could hear the panic in his voice and the lousy grammar in his words, but he didn't care, so long as Joe never again did something that stupid.

“Oh, yeah. I was…” A brief pause. “I… I thought I could still play. Besides, it’s not like I have to run all the time during the game, right?”

David let out another sigh, this one less relieved and more worried. “So, have you got anyone checked on you? What did they say?”

“Well, they said thankfully it’s nothing really serious. They gave me some… pain killers and stuff and told me to come tomorrow for another examination.”

“And you better be, Joe.” David needed Joe to start taking this seriously. “Promise me that you will come to see them and do what they tell you to do.”

“Yeah. I will. I promise.” David could picture a small smile on Joe's face.

“Good,” David said. He stroked the monkey's head.

“Oh, and David?”

“Yes?” David put his hands on the keyboard, ready to type.

“You don’t have to come here, really.”

That wasn't what he'd expected to hear. “Why? You don’t want to see me?”

“No… no, I didn’t mean it like that - I mean, you have training and games and…stuff to do…”

“They can wait.” David was already making a list of people to call and appointments to cancel.

“No, please no. City needs you, David. The other lads and the fans? They will hate me if you don’t play just because you fly all the way just to see me. I will hate myself.” David mentally cursed Pep for causing Joe to think so little of himself in City's eyes.

“Joe, I’m just-”

“David, I know. I know that you’re worried. But I am okay. Really.”

“Really?” David wanted to believe Joe, but he had to be sure. “You’re really okay there?”

“Yes, David. Trust me.”

David narrowed his eyebrows and chewed his lips, looking at the monkey as if to ask for its opinion on the matter. With a sigh, he conceded, “Well, okay, if you say so.”

“I do say so, David.”

“But promise me that you will have a follow-up with the medics.” David wasn't letting Joe off the hook anytime soon.

“I’ve told you, I promise. Really… David, you don’t have to be…”

David knew what Joe was thinking. “Overreacting?”

Joe laughed nervously. “Well, I’m not the one saying that…”

“It’s okay, Joe,” David said, his voice softening. He sighed, knowing that Joe hated being fussed over. “I know I am. I’m sorry…”

“No! Please no, David. You don’t need to apologize. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

David laughed lightly, knowing when he'd gone too far. “I am indeed, overreacting. But Joe...” David paused, making sure he could express his feelings properly. “You know that it’s because I am so, so, very worried about you.”

“I know.”

“And I was worried because…” David closed his eyes and imagined Joe standing in front of him, listening to his words. “...well, I care about you.” He opened his eyes again and concluded, “I really care about you, Joe. I love you.”

After a few nerve-wracking moments, Joe whispered, “I love you too, David.”

David's heart swelled with happiness. “Now…you better get a rest, okay?” He somehow managed to keep his voice calm.

“Okay.”

“And Joe, one more thing?” he added quickly.

“Yes?”

“Can I, at least, teach a lesson to whoever that was who hurt you?”

“No, David, you may not teach him a lesson. Bye for now.” Joe hung up the phone.

David scowled and made another call. He was answered after two rings. “What's up, David?”

“Your best friend is unreasonable, James Milner!” David shook his fist in frustration, knowing full well that James couldn't see him from Liverpool. 

“I'm not the one who fell in love with him, David Silva. I'm guessing this is about his head injury?”

“Yes! He won't let me visit him, he thinks I'm overreacting, and WORST of all -” David allowed himself a dramatic pause. “He has ordered me to not teach a lesson to the idiot who did it to him! I, his red-blooded Spanish lover, have been banned from seeking revenge!”

James began to laugh. “Leave it to me.”

 _Two days later, somewhere in the part of Milan that supports AC Milan rather than Inter Milan..._  
Gianluca Lapadula was running down the streets as fast as he could. Two very large dogs were catching up to him. Their owner was standing a short distance away, recording everything on his phone.

 _A few hours after that, in Joe Hart's Torino home..._  
“Harlow, there is nothing funny about this.” Joe glared at the Skype call screen. “Aren't you two supposed to set good examples for him?”

“Harmless revenge, Charlie,” said James. “Just two Canaan dogs in Milan chasing the guy who messed up your head. What better use of my membership in an international organization of Canaan dog owners?”

“¡Así es!” David smiled widely. “You never told James to not seek revenge.”

“No more seeking revenge by either of you,” said Joe in his captain voice. “Harlow, say goodnight.” The small boy waved through his laughter, and his father ended the Skype call, wishing his boyfriend and best friend weren't such close friends. (Not that he really wanted it any other way.)

**Author's Note:**

> And now we wait for James's POV. =D
> 
> Harlow keeping Joe awake is a reference to my earlier fic, "Once Upon a Time in Manchester City," in which Harlow was kept awake by really weird dreams. (I realize this fic doesn't make sense as a sequel to that fic.)
> 
> Guante is the Spanish word for "glove."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Helping Out a Friend](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9635411) by [myblueworld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myblueworld/pseuds/myblueworld)




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